


absence makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that

by techburst



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/techburst/pseuds/techburst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>two months is a long time, no matter how you look at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	absence makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted here - http://ritevakh.tumblr.com/post/60056026198/title-absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder-or 
> 
> i'm just lazy and generally terrible at keeping up with cross-posting.

two months is a long time, no matter how you look at it. when your home has become the confines of a ship that brings a comfort you’ve never felt before, being away from it – no matter no long – feels like being separated from a vital part of yourself. nothing feels right until you’re back where you belong.

leonard never fails to understand when he’s needed elsewhere; his loyalty, his responsibility may lie with the enterprise and its crew, and it’s not so much self-assurance as the concrete _knowledge_ that his skill, his prowess is unmatched. which means when a distress signal comes from a colony not far off from their designated course, jim – being the caring and thoughtful bastard he is – had offered him up without the faintest bit of hesitation. 

he goes willingly, but really. thanks for checking with him first. 

time doesn’t pass quickly, but he keeps busy. the synthesis of a vaccine for a moderately life-threatening virus that had cropped up and ended up afflicting half of the colony keeps his mind sharp, occupied – long nights spent with padds upon padds of data just to ensure he doesn’t miss anything. gets it perfect. 

when he does, their thanks is payment enough, and the knowledge that he can finally go _home_ gives him something to look forward to. 

his shuttle arrives an hour – give or take – before the start of alpha shift, and despite striding back onto the ship with heavy steps and bags under his eyes, there are things he needs to attend to. for one, to make sure no one managed to blow up the medbay in his absence; having left it in the capable hands of his best nurse has him feeling pretty optimistic, but he’s almost positive there are going to be things that have to be corrected, patient files that need organizing, supplies lists made .. 

leonard is exhausted beyond all measure of the word, the life of a workaholic never comes easy, but it gives him purpose and keeps him thinking that he’s making himself useful. 

he steps out of the airlock, supplies and personal belongings weighing heavy on his shoulders as a hand rubs at tired eyes. his mind is already at work making a list of things that need tending to, and if not for raising his head at that precise moment, he may have missed it. dark hair, science-blue uniform with hands clasped behind and rigidly-straight back. expressions neutral on both their parts, but as bones passes with a slight nod, the whisper of _knew you’d miss me_ passes through amidst other thoughts, mingled and hidden, and he wonders if it’s picked up on. 

it doesn’t linger too long, though the ghost of a smile spreads over the line of his mouth. 

a few hours later finds him making one of his routine visits to the bridge, almost cheerfully announcing that jim’s physical is coming up. ( if there’s one thing he can consistently take comfort and find a small amount of amusement in, it’s seeing that irritated scowl slide across his captain’s expression, knowing full well he’s going to have to drag him bodily to medical to even get the ball rolling. see, jim, he can be a little shit too sometimes. ) there’s a fair amount of protest, bullshit excuses and downright _whining_ before jim gives in to that unyielding glare, grumbles that he’ll find his way to the medbay once alpha is over, and bones finds himself inherently pleased that it hadn’t taken anywhere near as long as it usually does. 

jim kirk’s acquiescence to anything even _remotely_ involving something he doesn’t like is rare, like a unicorn flying through space shitting rainbows.

satisfied, he turns to makes his way back to the lift, purposely – but nonchalantly – passing by the science station. not a single word is spoken, but two fingers find their way to brush over the back of a hand resting idly on the console, and though they both feel the shiver of such light contact passing through them there’s nothing more. he feels a pair of eyes at his back as he steps into the lift, grins lightly to himself as the door slides shut behind him. 

a handful of hours more pass, and once he thinks he finally has everything back in order, only then does he see fit to extract himself from medbay. make his way back to his quarters with even heavier steps than previously, almost nothing more than a tired drag of boots as he reaches to enter the security code that has his door sliding open for him. 

a gracious thing, the quiet and familiarity of his personal space, and he breathes out – slow and easy, eyes closing only for as long as it takes for him to register the hiss of the door behind him, open and closed, and that secretive smile from that morning finds its way to his mouth again. he turns, and lips are met with a human kiss. slow and languid, appreciative. meaningful. 

and bones smiles into it, pulling back only when his lungs protest and he breathes in. foreheads meet, resting against one another and for the first time that day, he relaxes. the tension in shoulders eases, and his heart thuds steadily behind the cage of his ribs as a hand raises to brush the tips of middle and index finger along the line of his jaw. 

silence lingers, only to be broken by the whisper of a rough southern drawl. 

"missed you too."


End file.
